Poisoned Cherry
by Victoriam Speramus
Summary: Evidently none of their dates can be perfect, something has to happen always. But still, they are togheter, and that's quite enough. Post S2. Belated Valentine Fic. Enjoy!


_**Disclaimer: DA is not mine, and the first line is borrowed from Dexter.**_

_**Belated Valentine fic, product of past experiences and **__**a bad Valentine of my own.**_

_**A/N The first parts aren't in sequence, but I hope they're understandable.  
**_

* * *

**-Poisoned Cherry-  
**

* * *

Hand-holding. So simple, so intimate, so...

"Unbelievable."

How long had they been waiting for this, just for holding their hands, just for the feeling of the other's skin? Some parts of her had believed he'd given up, but her fingers entwined with his were sufficient proof that he would never have surrendered, he'd have been always waiting for that moment, with the same anxiety and despair as she would. No more moments of agony and loneliness, all that was over. It were Max and Logan now. Gettin' busy if you asked Joshua about it.

Funny thing, Max had thought her attempt at dinner in a newly renovated penthouse, well known for both of them, would be the surprise of the night. Certainly, if Logan liked the Cherry Pie or if he was happy to have his home back were the least important matters of the moment.

"Is it forever?" She asked, she needed to ask. It would be quite painful to know they only have half a day. She just wouldn't stand the fact of being unable to touch him again. The contact was a drug she had abstained for a time had seemed eternal, and yet she remembered exactly the feeling, the pleasure of such pettiness, just his hand over hers. She didn't know, she couldn't imagine how it would be to do something more, to go deeper, under his skin, mix with each other making love and then separate again. No, she did not want to go through all that again, but it was better that don't take the risk, that don't take the beautiful chance even if it was that way.

He thought her smile couldn't grow wider, but it did when he nodded, and when his lips found hers, it felt like Heaven in Earth.

And no one and nothing could screw it this time.

* * *

A brief moment, the thought of wanting it to be the virus crossed her mind. She slapped herself on the back of her head. That was something she shouldn't joke about, not then, not anymore.

Even with that stupid thought, she knew that, if the virus would have been the cause of his bad being, at least she would have known it was not her fault. She could have been the host, sure, but she was damn sure she didn't designed it, she didn't injected on her; in resume, it was consequence of someone else's plans. But this...

She was guilty. Very, very guilty.

And the worst part of this was that, obviously, it hadn't been her intention. It started as a nice detail for their anniversary, their third anniversary. Life had been tough since their first one, with the whole going back to Manticore thing, and the last year they didn't even remember the date. Or maybe they did, but in between killing White, the so-called Coming, the Transgenic Freedom and the bitchy virus, there hadn't been room enough to celebrate, to say _'I'm so happy we've been together for so long'. _

_

* * *

_Max came up with the idea of a dinner. A romantic, very romantic one, with warm candles and soft music, just like he did. It broke her heart knowing that there wouldn't be anything else, if not hot, wild after-sex, at least a kiss. Nevertheless, she clung to the idea.

It had been hard to keep Logan away from her the last few days, but Max managed to create several crisis all around the city, the kind of things Eyes Only cared about, and he couldn't resist. She had called Matt Sung to stay at his side every second. This way, Logan wouldn't be able to leave, he wouldn't do anything, not even buy a present for her. She shook her head; actually she was pretty sure he already have his.

The penthouse had been the easiest part, despite Max wasn't exactly a fan of cleaning, and surely she didn't want to replace its characteristic glass partitions with cheap plastic. A couple nights working as her own cat burglar, like the old times before Logan, and she won enough money like to buy a small house, a really small one, near the waterfront, but she didn't want a new place for him, she wanted _his _place for him.

And Original Cindy helped with that too. Max didn't know her boo had been an interior designer in a former life, and both women redecorated the whole apartment. As a matter of fact, only Max. Cindy seemed to enjoy the role of the CO and was ordering to her how to arrange the furniture, how to mix the paint colors. She couldn't do that much because of her pregnancy. How in hell had she gotten pregnant? That was a mystery not even Max Guevara had discovered.

However, the final result was a place it didn't look like if it had been under fire. The decoration was reminding the past, but also getting ahead, a mirror to the future, reviving the hope they needed.

But cooking...

The recipe was written in an unknown language. Max could understand medical, technical and chemistry vocabulary in more than ten languages, but that, that was out of her range of knowledge, it was a different skill-set. When it came to most of things, she only knew how to boil water. This time, to her bad luck, Kendra was far, far away, and she wasn't coming back to Seattle just to help her with that tricolore sauce. At least she remembered a bit how she did it, but the cherry pie was a completely new thing. Thank God, Max finally thought, because it could be a genuine form to reciprocate for all the times he'd cooked for her. For her comfort, she was aware of what made their frequent dinners special were not the delicious dishes that otherwise she would never have eaten, but the need for companionship, his company. Being together was more important than the taste of food. Or at least she hoped Logan shared her opinion in case dinner tasted awful.

* * *

He flashed a smile while his eyes studied the apartment. _Penthouse and no virus, this is going to be better than the old times_, Logan thought.

They hadn't stop touching since he gave her his present. She pressed his hand gently and, as he faced her, started the meticulous exploration of his mouth. A passionate kiss filled with hunger, with desire, with love. His hand finally left hers as he began to caress the soft curves of her body, sending volts of electricity to every single cell in her organism. "You know," she broke the kiss, breathlessly, "is not like I wouldn't like to skip dinner and go straight to dessert," she giggled, biting her lip, "but I squeezed all my cooking skills, so I'd be really pissed if we don't dine."

He groaned and brushing his lips against hers, his hand went back to hers. She leaded him to the kitchen, his oh-so-missed kitchen, and filled two glasses with champagne, not of the cheap one, and raised hers, "For the future."

"For the future," he repeated and kissed her again.

0-0-0

The pasta tricolore didn't taste bad, neither the pie. He said, with that smile that made her heart melt, that it was good. Just good. The words delicious, delightful, excellent, didn't come out of his mouth, and she was glad they didn't, because that would have been a lie. Dinner was good, and that made her happy because he had never eaten nothing done with her own hands.

It could be the start of something entirely new, of the future, not his, nor hers, _their _future, as in together. He would cook something great, as usual, and she could surprise him every once in a while with a culinary miracle of her own.

The future was scary, though. Max had never imagined herself so committed with someone, but somehow she could picture the most simple moments of a normal life with him. Buying groceries, talking about work, picking up the kids from school...

Kids, she wasn't sure about that, but the whole making kids process...

She blushed at the thought as Logan finished his glass of champagne and lowered his gaze, catching the red on her cheeks. Max had the cutest blush. Max had the cutest everything. Max was cute, though most people didn't see that side of her, deceived by the tough girl attitude.

Shaking her head, she offered wine. "There must be a Pre-Pulse thing somewhere, a Nuits St. Somethin'."

He pushed away the glass and pulled her back to him when she insisted on bringing the bottle, smelling the cherry flavor of her shampoo. "I want my senses intact."

She arched a brow, "Why would you want your senses intact?" she teased, turning her face slowly, her mouth barely an inch from his.

"Because I want to remember whatever that happens tonight."

0-0-0

Both sat in the bed, he began kissing her, in a delicate and slow way. Her arms wrapped around his neck, she wondered how she had managed to live without that, she wondered why she hadn't gone with him in their first anniversary. His taste was intoxicating, sweeter, hotter than anything else, while his hands danced around her waist, around her hips. Her hands began the exploring of his torso, pulling up his sweater in deliberated movements.

She tossed her red v-neck shirt somewhere in the bedroom, pressing her hot body against his. He pulled away, and she frowned, confused, but caught his green eyes exploring the lenght of her body, admiring every single inch of skin on her available to his sight. Grinning, she pushed him against the headboard fiercely, refusing to ever leave him, refusing to ever let go. It had hurt a lot to get there, it had been a long road both doubted if it was the right one, but their souls, now waiting anxiously to their fusion, waiting to explode together, were screaming it had been the right path.

Max groaned as his lips left hers, but he buried his mouth into the corner of her shoulder and her neck. Moans escaped from her throat, her breath erratic, reason completely gone. For being something she had only done while in heat, this was different. It wasn't just a physical relief, it were two souls about getting in syncrony with each other, with the universe.

The longing for the right time was almost over. She grasped the waistband of his pants, and he separated himself from her. "Give me... a minute," he mumbled, gasping for air, before dropping a brief kiss to her lips and walking into the bathroom, shaking. Max groaned, laying back on the bed. The heat inside of her was growing in a speed she would have never conceived, and she couldn't wait any longer. He is nervous, she thought, and a grin formed in the corner of her lips, realizing the effect she had on him. Biting her lip, Max squeezed her thighs when a moan of pain came to her ears. She leaned on her elbows, frowning, her gaze locked in the bathroom's door.

0-0-0

He had been in the bathroom the last fourteen minutes and eighteen seconds. It wasn't that counting the time resulted funny to her, it was more like she was very worried and didn't know what else to do but wait there, her back leaning against the sliding door, and she was bad at waiting. She tapped her bare feet in the bright tiles of the floor, just making some noise, so he'd think at least she wasn't listening to him throwing out the dinner. But she was, and guilty overwhelmed her. Of so many things that could make him any type of harm, a bomb in the Aztek, a shot to his head, it was her food the one that did it. That damn cherry pie had been jealous of not receiving the attention Max promised to it.

Eventually, the vomiting ended and all the sound came out from his heavy breathing, and when she heard how he hit against the bathroom shelves, she didn't go into his rescue. Logan Cale could be Eyes Only, most of people's hero and enemy of another plenty, but still he was a male. Males doesn't like their girlfriends to see them in moments of weakness, and that was surely one of that moments.

She slid the door, only half an inch, just to make him possible to listen to her words. At least the female made the male keep the door open. "Are you okay?" The concern in her voice was evident, and the question might sound quite stupid, but she needed to know, she needed to listen his voice at least.

He groaned something she translated into a 'fine', and she smiled a little bit. Poor thing.

She peeked inside the room and she saw him, in all his sexiness, laying on the floor. Minutes later, he stood, still shaking, still weak, and with the water running in the sink he rinsed his mouth, trying to eliminate the burning sensation and the faint taste of cherries. With a hand in the sink for support, Logan went back to the floor, believing its white coolness would be good for him.

Crawling, Max came to him and settled his head on her lap. "I'm sorry," he whispered, apologetically, and closed his eyes, his breath now calm, steady.

She shook her head, though he couldn't see her. "I'm sorry. Guess there are some people who shouldn't try to cook, ever." Emphasis in the last word.

"You can have a good teacher, you know?" He offered, with a weak smile, imagining a grin showing on hers.

It wasn't that way. "It sucks," she whispered, tears in her brown eyes threatening to run freely down her cheeks, "it sucks that evidently none of our dates can be perfect, that something has to happen ALWAYS." She blinked the tears back, and the whispering was gone; now, Max was almost yelling, angry, sad... ashamed. "If is not Bronck kidnapping girls and trafficking blood, is Zack asking for help or is Joshua sayin' we must stop that Gossamer thing... or anything. Can't we just have a good date, for once?"

Logan rolled a bit, with his eyes wide open, seeing her by their corner. "We are togheter," he kissed one of her hands, "and that quite enough for me."

And then she was speechless, understanding his words, and though she made him sick, a smile appeared on her face and she could barely contain it. She lowered her head to kiss him gently in his sweaty forehead, caressing his spiky blonde hair while a fog of sleep clouded his senses. Of course their date was over and it hadn't concluded as they had hoped it, but now the key of the future was in their hands. Finally they were owners of all the time in the world, as they had wished, as they had believed once before. Things would suck every now and then, but life wouldn't be like that always, especially not now, when they were together, when the wall that separated them had fallen down.

The future was promising, seductive, though it was scary, even dangerous, and they both needed each other to survive. There was a lot of stuff Max and Logan had never had to face before, and it felt like tomorrow they might just have to. And even when after the movies end she never saw what happened next, she trusted the motion picture of her life would have a happy ending, poisoned cherries along the road or not.

* * *

_**Not what I wanted, but there was no reason to keep it inside the computer. **_


End file.
